2. Analyse and parse the following:

'The moping owl does to the moon complain

Of such as, wandering near her secret bower,
Molest her ancient solitary reign.'

3. Make sentences of your own, and use in each one or more of the following words: Molest, team, obscure, inevitable.


Yet even these bones from insult to protect,
Some frail memorial still erected nigh,

With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked,
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.

Their name, their years, spelt by the unlettered muse,
The place of fame and elegy supply :

And many a holy text around she strews,
That teach the rustic moralist to die.

For who, to dumb Forgetfulness a prey,

This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned,
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,
Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind?

On some fond breast the parting soul relies,

Some pious drops the closing eye requires;
Even from the tomb the voice of nature cries,
Even in our ashes live their wonted fires.




For thee, who, mindful of the unhonoured dead,
Dost in these lines their artless tale relate;

If chance, by lonely Contemplation led,


Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate;

Haply some hoary-headed swain may say:
'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn
Brushing with hasty steps the dews away,

To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.

'There at the foot of yonder nodding beech,
That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high,
His listless length at noontide would he stretch,
And pore upon the brook that babbles by.

'Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove; Now drooping, woful, wan, like one forlorn,

Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love.

'One morn I missed him on the 'customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill,




Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he.

'The next, with dirges due in sad array,

Slow through the churchway path we saw him borne;

Approach and read—for thou canst read—the lay
Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.'



Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth,
A Youth, to Fortune and to fame unknown;
Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy marked him for her own.

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,

Heaven did a recompense as largely send :


He gave to Misery all he had- —a tear;

He gained from Heaven-'twas all he wished-a friend.

No further seek his merits to disclose,


Or draw his frailties from their dread abode-
There they alike in trembling hope repose—

[blocks in formation]

EXERCISES.-1. The affixes -cle, -cule, -et, -kin, -let, -ling, -ock, -ow, -ule, denote little; as part, particle; animal, animalcule; flower, floweret ; lamb, lambkin; stream, streamlet; duck, duckling; hill, hillock; shade, shadow; globe, globule.

2. Analyse and parse lines 101-104.

3. Make sentences of your own, and use in each one or more of the following words: Epitaph, disclose, precincts, particle.


[This is an extract from the History of England, by David Hume, the celebrated historian. Queen Elizabeth died 24th March 1603.]

1. The Earl of Essex, after his return from the fortunate expedition against Cadiz, observing the increase of the queen's fond attachment toward him, took occasion to regret that the necessity of her service required him often to be absent from her person, and exposed him to all those ill offices which his enemies, more assiduous in their attendance, could employ against him.

2. She was moved with this tender jealousy, and, making him the present of a ring, desired him to keep that pledge of her affection, and assured him

that, into whatever disgrace he should fall, yet, if he sent her that ring, she would immediately upon the sight of it recall her former tenderness, would afford him a patient hearing, and would lend a favourable ear to his apology.

3. Essex, notwithstanding all his misfortunes, reserved this precious gift to the last extremity; but after his trial and condemnation, he resolved to try the experiment, and he committed the ring to the Countess of Nottingham, whom he desired to deliver it to the queen. The countess was prevailed on by her husband, the mortal enemy of Essex, not to execute the commission; and Elizabeth, who still expected that her favourite would make this last appeal to her tenderness, and who ascribed the neglect of it to his invincible obstinacy, was, after much delay and many internal combats, pushed by resentment and policy to sign the warrant for his execution.

4. The Countess of Nottingham, falling into sickness and affected with the near approach of death, was seized with remorse for her conduct; and, having obtained a visit from the queen, she craved her pardon and revealed to her the fatal secret. The queen,

astonished at this incident, burst into a furious passion; she shook the dying countess in her bed; and, crying to her that God might pardon her, but she never could, she broke from her, and thenceforth. resigned herself over to the deepest and most incurable melancholy.

5. She rejected all consolation; she even refused food; and, throwing herself on the floor, she remained sullen and immovable, feeding her thoughts on her afflictions, and declaring life an insufferable burden to her. Few words she uttered-and they were all

expressive of some inward grief which she cared not to reveal-but sighs and groans were the chief vent which she gave to her despondency, and which, though they discovered her sorrows, were never able to ease them.

6. Ten days and nights she lay upon the carpet, leaning upon cushions which her maids brought her; and her physicians could not persuade her to allow herself to be put to bed, much less to make trial of any of their remedies. Her anxious mind at last had so long preyed on her frail body that her end was visibly approaching; and the council, being assembled, sent the keeper, admiral, and secretary to know her will in regard to her successor. She answered, with a faint voice, that, as she had held a regal sceptre, she desired no other than a royal successor.

7. Cecil requesting her to explain herself more particularly, she added that she would have a king to succeed her; and who should that be but her nearest kinsman, the King of Scots? Being then advised by the Archbishop of Canterbury to fix her thoughts upon God, she replied that she did so, nor did her mind in the least wander from Him. Her voice soon after left her; her senses failed; she fell into a slumber, which continued some hours; and she expired gently, without further struggle (March 24), in the seventieth year of her age, and forty-fifth of her reign.

[subsumed][subsumed][merged small][subsumed][subsumed][ocr errors][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed]
« VorigeDoorgaan »